


Surprising Turn Of Events

by afteriwake



Series: Just A Little Bit [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was angry. What had she done to Sherlock to get him to hate her so much? Little did she know that hate was the exact opposite of what he felt for her…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprising Turn Of Events

**Author's Note:**

> So, there was some call for Pondlock smut. I don’t think this is very good, to be honest. And it’s not really angry sex like I said I’d write. But I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

She had never been so angry at one man than she was at Sherlock Holmes. He was grating, insulting and aggravating, and he drove her mad. Yet there was something incredibly sexy about him. It was an exquisite torture, working with him. And she wondered why she did it.

Her marriage had imploded two years before. She had given Rory up, and at times she thought it was her biggest mistake, and at other times she firmly believed it was the best thing for everyone involved. But she was lonely, oh so lonely. She had channeled her loneliness into modeling for a bit, but it felt so empty and after a while she found herself needing other things. But she was at a loss for what to do.

It had been a twist of fate when she met John Watson, who was struggling to continue the work his friend had done. After an evening of pints at the pub she had offered to help. He had accepted her help, and they worked on homicide cases around his job at the clinic and her modeling jobs. And it had been six months ago that Sherlock Holmes had returned. Amy had been at 221B Baker St the day he returned. John had almost punched Sherlock in the face, but in the end he had embraced his friend roughly and introduced him to her.

They were like oil and water almost from the beginning. They didn’t click the same way he and John did, even though she and John were very similar. Sometimes she thought she saw similarities between her and Sherlock, but any time she tried to build a bond based on them she was shot down. Now that he was back she was relegated to the sidelines, unless it was decided a woman could do the job better than either of them.

But today was the last straw. The Johnson case had been hers from long before Sherlock’s return. No matter what she and John had tried they couldn’t crack it. And today Sherlock came in, took it over, solved it, and took all the damn credit for it. She wanted to throttle him. And so today, the anger was winning out over the attraction.

She knew John wasn’t going to be at his home but Sherlock was. John had given her a key before Sherlock returned, and no one had asked for it back yet. She used it to let herself into John and Sherlock’s home, and she made her way to the common room, where Sherlock was by the window, looking out at the people below. “I’ve had enough of your arrogance and one-upmanship, Sherlock,” she said as she went over to him and spun him around to face her. “You’re a conceited arse and I want to know why you hate me so much that you take _my_ case and solve it and claim all the credit.”

“Your contribution was small,” he said. “It wasn’t worthy of note.”

She’d slapped him across the face before she even thought about it. It had caught him by surprise because he blinked and looked at her afterwards. “I hate you, you know that?” she said quietly. “I worked my arse off helping John. When he contributes something to a case it’s a grand effort but when I do it it’s nothing.” She had told herself she wouldn’t cry but she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

“On the contrary, the Jefferson case couldn’t have been solved without your contributions,” he said. “The same goes for the case involving the Roman sculpture.” He rubbed his cheek slightly. “And point of fact, I do not hate you, Amelia.”

“Amy,” she said.

“Amelia suits you more.”

“But I go by Amy. Only my friends call me Amelia. And you, Sherlock, are not one of my friends.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm, keeping her there. “Let me go, Sherlock, or I’ll scream my bloody head off.”

He let go of her arm. “You let your husband go. Probably because he wanted something you couldn’t give him, something more than the children you can no longer bear. It’s left you wanting more, wanting a thrill. So when you found John you thought you found the perfect side job. He took my role in things and you became his assistant, then his confidant, and finally his friend. I do not hate you, _Amy_ , but I envy you. You have taken my place in his life so easily, and I feel as though now I need to prove myself all over again to him.”

“You think I _replaced_ you?” she said, turning to face him. “You’re all he could talk about. He did everything for _you_ , you big dolt. And now you’re back and I’ve been tossed under the bus. Newsflash, Sherlock: you are _vastly_ more important to him than I am. And you don’t even see it.” She looked down. “I’ll call John and I’ll tell him I want to stop solving cases with him. Then you’ll have him all to yourself again.”

“No,’ Sherlock said.

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“I don’t want you to stop helping. I don’t want you to not be here.”

“But you don’t like me,” she said.

“On the contrary, I like you very much,” he said. “I do envy you and your relationship with John, but you…fascinate me. There’s an entire part of your life that you hold separate, and it intrigues me. I want to learn more about you. I want to figure out why you are the way you are.”

She shook her head. “You’ll think I’m crazy. You’d never believe me.”

“You know the Doctor,” he replied.

“How do you know about him?” she asked, shocked.

“I traveled a lot while I took down Moriarty’s network. I heard things. And then I met him. He talked about you, about how he had let you down. And then I come back to London and there you are, firmly entrenched in my friend’s life. I’ve felt conflicting feelings about you for the last six months and so I’ve kept you at a distance.”

“So what do you want to do now?” she asked, feeling slightly dazed.

“Something I haven’t done in a very long time,” he replied, closing the gap between them. He leaned in and kissed her, a possessive kiss that she returned after a moment. She reached for the lapels of his suit jacket and held on as she felt her knees go weak, and he reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, keeping her close and keeping the kiss deep.

It wasn’t until they needed to breathe that they pulled away. She looked at him, and the anger had left, completely replaced by a raging bout of lust. She moved her hands up and pulled him in for another kiss, this one just slightly more frantic with need. He responded in kind, and then they began to move. She could tell that he was trying to maneuver them to his room but they didn’t quite make it, and her back slammed into the wall. He pinned her there, pressing against her and deepening the kiss even further.

She didn’t care that they were still in the common room; she needed to feel more of him. She moved her hands away from the lapel and pushed the suit jacket off his shoulders. He moved his hands away from her to let her get it off, and then she began to work on the buttons of his shirt. Her hands were shaking slightly with nervousness and need, but she managed to get them undone and then began to push the shirt off of him.

When the shirt was gone it was his turn to undress her. He pulled her against him slightly and away from the wall, and he got her jacket off and then went for the hem of her shirt. She helped him get them both off and then he reached behind her for her bra clasp. She could feel him fumble with it for a moment and then it came undone, and he peeled it off of her before pulling her against him, flesh touching flesh. His skin was so warm, and she brought her hands around to his back and dug her nails in slightly to keep them from sliding down his back, which was slick with perspiration.

He retaliated by ducking his head down and nipping at her pulse point. She groaned and then ran her nails down his back. He bit harder and she felt like she was going to black out from pleasure. She ran her hand down to the small of his back and then to the top of his pants, running her hands along to the front, and she began to work on the button and zipper Her hand were trembling as she did, but finally she got them undone and pushed down.

He wasn’t just standing there and letting her do what she wanted, though. He had moved his hands to the bottom hem of her mini skirt and pushed it up to her waist. Then he pulled her panties down to her knees. She shimmied slightly until they fell down to the ground and she could step out of them. He slid one finger into her, then another, and began moving them in and out of her. His thumb was toying with her clit, and she could feel the intense feeling pooling deep down. He slipped in a third finger and moved faster.

She retaliated by pushing his boxer briefs down and when his cock was free she encircled it, moving her hand up and down, first slowly, then with more speed. He groaned, and after a moment he moved his hands from her and she let go of him. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he positioned his cock at her entrance. And then he thrusted, filling her up completely. He kissed her as she gasped, swallowing the sound. He began to thrust harder, and she found herself hanging on for dear life, digging her nails into his back.

She could feel her orgasm approaching, and it was going to be a powerful one. She wanted to break off the kiss and scream at the pleasure she was feeling, but he’d braced her against the wall, using one hand to keep the kiss deep and then he used the other to press her clit. She screamed into the kiss as she orgasmed, and felt him come as well. Slowly he stopped thrusting, and for a moment it was the two of them locked together against the wall, hearts racing and pulses pounding. She had pulled away from the kiss and was letting her head drop, panting slightly. She had not had sex that good in a very long time.

After a few moments they disentangled themselves, and once he had pulled his underwear back up he looked at her. “We should probably clean up,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“We could both use the shower,” he said.

“Together?” she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“I had thought that might be pleasant.”

She grinned at him, then went up to him, snaking her hand behind his head and pulling him in for a deep kiss. She could feel parts of him stir again the longer they kissed. “I like it when you have good ideas,” she breathed when they parted. Then she picked up her bra and shirt and made her way to the bathroom. This, she realized, could make for a _very_ interesting new relationship.


End file.
